


Your Eyes Are Like the Ocean & All I Want to Do Is Drown

by SeekingAGreatPerhaps



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Callum is a Haas driver, F1 2021, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Mick and Callum are teammates, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, WIP, coping mechanism things, not really enemies but not besties to lovers, schulott
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29155038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeekingAGreatPerhaps/pseuds/SeekingAGreatPerhaps
Summary: fake/pretend relationship au! for my favourite inseparable duo
Relationships: Callum Ilott/Mick Schumacher
Comments: 62
Kudos: 175





	1. Fine Line

**Author's Note:**

> hi there! hope u enjoy my first ever schulott fic (hopefully the first of many) and please feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism in the comment section, they mean a lot to me! i'll also def try to update as often as possible. btw, english isn't my first language so excuse any grammar/punctuation mistakes lmao
> 
> oh and check out my schulott playlist on spotify if ur looking for something to listen to while reading this! :)
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7rzxmVcakrFiGmh3a8A3Tf?si=JE2N0DPcQj-NCickGLx4Lg
> 
> have a good day!

When Callum saw Guenther’s name on his phone the previous night, he was terrified. He was anticipating pitiful apologies and exaggerated praise coming from the other end of the line. Possibly to compensate for Nikita’s announcement a few days prior, he guessed.

“Callum, you’re now an F1 driver,” was what he heard instead.

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the adrenaline and rush of emotions that he felt. Releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, he eagerly thanked Guenther and told him of his excitement for their first team meeting the following morning.

Callum would be having his test with Alfa Romeo the same day and for the first time, everything felt like they’re falling into their places. He has forgotten how it feels to not be on edge and to be at peace but tonight, he finally remembers. He wouldn’t describe his relationship with his future teammate, Mick, as one that’s even close to his relationship with other blokes like Marcus, for example. However, it’s not like they’re each other’s nemesis. Sure, they may have been title rivals but there has always been a solid amount of respect between them. Callum has even once admitted that they share a special connection and he truly believes that that is true. They sit in the fine line between colleagues and distant friends. Callum can live with that.

High on the news of his new employment, Callum’s countless attempts at sleep kept failing. To occupy himself, he decided that it’d be a great gesture to send Mick a text. After all, Mick is the man Callum would spend most of his 2021 with, so there’s nothing weird or scary about it. However, the rapidly rising pounding in Callum’s chest is telling him otherwise. He tells himself that it’s nothing but a side effect of recently being informed that you’re an F1 driver.

_Callum_  
Hey future teammate

_Mick_  
Hey Ilott  
Congrats :)

Burying himself further into the weighted blanket, he stared at Mick’s text for longer than he should’ve. Given the time at which Callum texted him, Mick’s response was unusually quick.

_Callum_  
Thanks  
Don’t beat me too much :)

_Mick_  
Hmm  
I’ll think about it

The younger boy’s sarcasm elicited a small smirk from Callum. He plugged his charger into his phone, which read 01:00 and dozed off with a fond smile on his face.

Woken up by blinding rays that penetrated the balcony’s glass doors, having forgotten about the presence of his room’s curtains the previous night, Callum stumbled into his hotel room’s en suite and splashed some water onto his face. Looking back at him, in the all-encompassing mirror, was Mick’s blue shirt. The one Callum wore during Bahrain’s prize-giving ceremony.

It’s not that he has forgotten to return the shirt to its proper owner, it’s just really nice to have a well-made piece of clothing present in your suitcase. Moreover, what would he wear if there’s another event he has forgotten that requires a formal outfit? Keeping it wasn’t sentimental, it’s convenient. That’s all. And it’s not like Mick has asked for it back. Still, it doesn’t explain why Callum took the shirt out and hung it in his bathroom for him to look at.

Slipping into some black sweats and having put his FDA polo on, he grabbed his belongings and headed to the Haas team meeting. Guenther’s message read that he should meet him on the 1st floor of their hotel.

“Hi!” A certain German blonde greeted him, tugging a smile on Callum’s face.

“Hey, Schumacher!” Callum answered as Mick approached him.

They were both waiting for their boss near the hotel’s reception, making small and meaningless exchanges. This was how their conversations usually play out. They were comfortable enough to casually converse, but never to properly talk. In all honesty, this aspect of their relationship annoys Callum. He has never had a problem with building a bond with anyone else on the grid but with Mick, there’s always this gap he has never succeeded crossing. Maybe, Mick Schumacher is just too good to befriend someone like Callum Ilott, he concluded recently.

The elevator doors soon revealed the infamous Haas team principal who gestured for Callum and Mick to follow him into a small meeting room near the lobby.

Callum’s eyebrows raised when Guenther shut the door and began talking without waiting for the rest of the team. He quickly learned that it’s just the 3 of them this morning.

“Good morning Mick, morning Callum,” Guenther started, voice coated in a heavy German accent.

“Morning Guenther,” Callum said, leaning onto a chair.

“I’m going to be honest with the both of you. It’s not going to be easy next year. Not for me, not for you,” He points at Mick, “And not for you,” He moved his finger to Callum’s direction.

Neither Mick nor Callum was too phased by this statement. The entire grid knows Haas is a struggling team but that fact wasn’t a strong enough reason for Mick and Callum to deny the opportunity of driving in F1, what difference would it make now?

“We aren’t excelling as of now. We don’t have a lot of support, whether financially or from the fans, either.”

“Guenther, you know I’m with the team unconditionally, right?” Callum cuts him off.

Mick nods in agreement, “Me too.”

Guenther smiled at that.

“Oh, that’s obligatory of your job,” he joked, “Anyways, as you know, we were about to have Nikita as our second driver due to our financial desperation. Had it not been for his actions and the media’s response, that would’ve remained true.”

Mick felt the bile rising up his stomach at the mention of his name while Callum tried not to squirm as memories of getting punched by him came flooding through his mind like a broken dam.

“But we, as a team, decided that Haas wouldn’t survive in the long run with a wanker filling up one of our seats. That’s why you’re here, Callum.”

“It’s now crucial that we attract sponsors and secure financial backing urgently. The PR team has thought long and hard about this plan, all its drawbacks, risks, and of course, rewards.”

Both drivers grew increasingly confused, why couldn’t Guenther just get straight to the point?

“The prospect of having a couple-“

“What?” Callum’s voice betrayed all his hopes of remaining calm and professional throughout the meeting.

The young German stayed silent but was unable to meet either Callum’s or Guenther’s eyes. Mick knows the Abu Dhabi climate was unforgivingly scorching, even if it’s actually winter, but he’s certain that he doesn’t owe the stickiness of his palms to the weather.

“Listen!” Guenther commanded, “It’s detrimental that the both of you cooperate for even the slightest chance of holding onto your F1 career dreams. That hasn’t even begun, by the way.”

“As I was saying, the prospect of having a couple, that would actively race against each other and are both in one team, and not to mention, a couple that personifies F1’s “We Race As One” movement, in our world that’s becoming increasingly progressive, would definitely garner attention. The news outlets, international media, and fans would talk about the both of you, and most importantly, about Haas, more than they ever have before.”

Callum and Mick were both finding it difficult to argue at this point. As much as they wanted to rebut and propose a different solution, what Guenther was saying made sense.

It’s so so fucked up. Callum couldn’t deny that bit, but that’s motorsport for you, it’s fucked up. Yet, Callum, and so many others, blindly devote their life and passion for it and would do whatever it takes to be the 1 of 20 people on this Earth to land a seat in its pinnacle, Formula 1.

“All sponsors want is attention.” Guenther confidently states, “So, let’s give it to them.”

Silence filled the room. None of the 3 men said anything for what felt like a Ferrari pit stop.

“Ho- How long- Are we supposed to?” Callum was unable to finish his sentence, lost as to what to finish it with rather than lacking the ability to. What word could you possibly use for what they're going to do? Date? Partner up? Fake-date?

Guenther answered as-a-matter-of-fact-ly, “Half a season, 1 season. We’ll see how it goes, but it won’t be for too long, surely. Both of you will have a peaceful “separation” and by then, the Haas name would’ve been amplified enough, also with good results accompanying it, let’s hope, so the sponsors will stay.”

Mick has been awfully silent throughout the whole discussion, not once voicing out his thoughts or opinions when the impact is as much on him as it is on Callum.

“You have until tomorrow morning to decide. If not, then we’d have no choice but to change our lineup,” Guenther warned–not so much–them, but Callum. Callum knows this like how he bluntly knows the world is round or how he knows that he’ll never have another shot at F1. Why would they ever forgo a Schumacher from their lineup?

Guenther excused himself out, reminded of a business meeting he has with a potential investor. Unable to hold back the urge to see how Mick is doing, Callum glanced at the blonde for the first time since entering the room.

  
“You don’t have to Mick.”

“I know,” Mick looked at Callum with such kind eyes, Callum was so close to making himself believe that this could work out.

“I’m serious, this is- Guenther is clearly mad and- And honestly, what the actual fuck, right? You can’t possibly be considering this, can you?”

Mick choked out a defeated laugh, “He’s not mad and you know it, Callum.”

The Brit knows it.

“Does it repulse you so much?” Mick broke the silence.

“What?”

“Does it- Does the idea of “dating” me,” the German making quotation marks with his fingers, “repulse you so much?”

“No!” Callum answered without hesitance.

“So, let’s sign the papers today.”

Callum was tempted to say no. It crossed his mind that maybe that’s what Mick was expecting and wanted–For Callum to refuse. Maybe Mick’s selflessness was just a facade. Hell, Callum doesn’t know. He doesn’t know Mick, and truthfully, he’s afraid he’d never have the chance to. The older man has never felt more selfish. Self-centered enough to agree to a decision that may not only change someone’s life but hurt it. At that moment, although an abundance of thoughts rushed across his mind, Callum only managed to utter a single word.

“Okay.”

One word that after he said out loud, divided his life into two, the before and the after of it.


	2. November Flushed And Your Flannel Cured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> callum and mick get more comfortable with each other as they try to discuss some rules for their pretend-relationship. sleepy callum is a very flirty callum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the setting isn't in november, i just had to use a taylor swift lyric as a chapter title, i HAD to 🙈
> 
> enjoy! please feel free to drop any suggestions or tiny prompts you want me to include in the comment section!

Having taken off his balaclava, Callum smiled at the graphs and data on the screen in the Alfa Romeo garage. He was satisfied with how his testing went, managing 93 laps on softs, and placing 8th overall.

Spotting Mick from across the paddock, he jogged towards the younger man.

“Hey,” Callum greeted, combing his fingers through his mussed hair.

They have signed their contracts before testing commenced, deciding to immediately approach Guenther after his meeting finished.

“Hi,” Mick smiled.

Callum assumed Mick’s expression wasn’t as genuine as it was, or has it ever been?

“So, I was thinking we-“

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking we should- You know? Talk about the agreement before we leave. Just so we know what we’re doing as soon as the new season starts.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” There was zero resistance in Mick’s voice.

He’s always so compliant, Callum wonders if Mick ever says no to anything, or if saying no was even an option for the son of Michael Schumacher. Mick was raised to be polite, respectful, and diplomatic. He became so good at it that over the years, these habits have formed a shell that to outsiders, seems unnoticeable.

“Cool, can you meet me at the restaurant at our hotel’s lobby at 10?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there, Cal,” Mick answered.

Both men headed to their respective rooms to clean themselves up after hours of being caged in helmets and drenched in sweat. Callum stepped into the shower, enjoying the pleasure of the high water pressure, which lavish hotels like the one they’re at, tend to have, massaging his back and neck muscles.

Arriving in front of the restaurant at ten pm sharp, he was met with an apologetic waitress informing him that they’re no longer welcoming new guests, having closed just 5 minutes prior.

“Mick!” Callum greeted the blonde who appeared beside him.

“Hey, did you get us a seat?”

“Uh, they’re kinda closed,” Callum said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He has never been a great planner.

The neighboring Yas Mall has closed as well, and given that they’re in a secluded island slash biosphere, their options are limited. Out of ideas, Callum suggested that they hold their discussion in his room instead, telling Mick that he’d treat the blonde to room service (not that Mick can’t afford it on his own, obviously).

Mick nodded to the proposal and went along with Callum’s lead. Unlocking his room’s door, Callum jokingly bent down, acting as if he’s a gentleman (which in truth, the witty Brit is a far cry from), and prompted Mick to enter the room first, earning a teasing eye-roll from the German.

Having completely forgotten about the state of his room, Callum rushed to pick the fast-food wrappers–that littered his room’s carpet-flooring–up and stuffed them into the bin. Mick hardly ever judges but he couldn't help but giggle at the scene.

“You must be regretting your decision to date me right now,” Callum groaned impulsively as he continued making fruitless efforts at making his room slightly more presentable.

Callum soon realized what he said and directly reverted his gaze onto the blonde, sighing a breath of relief seeing that Mick showed no reaction–At least not externally.

“Well, I’m getting paid for it and it’s kind of a part of my job,” Mick remarked amused, showing no hint of annoyance.

Eyebrows raised, Callum mocked the blonde, “Oh, trust me Schumacher, a lot of people would date _this_ ,” Callum pointed at himself, “for free.”

“Oh, is that so?” Mick challenged, “So reliable, is that why you’re single?” His expression was victorious.

Callum was pleasantly surprised by their exchange. Both drivers were throwing humorous banter at each other as if it was natural to them. As if for the past few years they’re all but colleagues who would only interact through sharing fist bumps from time to time.

The Brit laughed at this and flipped the German off as he collected his misplaced hoodies and dumped them into his suitcase before eventually giving his cleaning efforts up, opting to sit on the balcony instead.

Sliding the glass doors open, Callum invited Mick to join him outside. Flipping through the room service menu that Callum grabbed from his room’s desk, he found nothing that interested him.

“Want something? I promised you I’d get you some food.”

Mick turned to look at the older boy, “We start dating in 2021 Cal, you don’t have to act like my boyfriend now,” He smirked.

Callum was lost as to where Mick’s sudden wit was coming from or is Callum’s own just that contagious? The F2 champion has never been this open with him, let alone, anyone else (as far as Callum has observed, anyways). But, Callum wasn’t complaining.

“Haha, okay Schumacher, let’s start getting down to business then.”

“Sure, you can start.”

“I was thinking, maybe we can lay down some rules?” Callum said doubtfully, truthfully unsure of what he’s saying. He has never done something like this, and neither has Mick.

Mick nodded to that, prompting Callum to continue.

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page about everything, yeah?”

“Yeah, same,” The blonde agreed, “What do you think Guenther expects us to do?”

Callum paused, trying to formulate a response.

“I don’t know. Probably light PDA? Are you- Are you comfortable with that?”

Mick is grateful for the night sky’s darkness that hid the red flush painting his cheeks. However, Callum did notice Mick’s expression slightly falling. Mick wasn’t disappointed or surprised, he knew what he’s getting into when he penned his signature onto their contract this morning, but to hear it said out loud made it feel a thousand times more real.

“Can you tell me what that may involve?” All of Mick’s confidence has dissipated. He was attempting to sound firm and totally not inexperienced but it’s difficult to conceal truths like those.

“Nothing you’re uncomfortable with,” Was Callum’s immediate answer, “I’m not quite sure myself, but maybe hand-holding? Hugging, publicly interacting with each other way more frequently than we’re used to…”

“Okay, yeah I’m okay with that. So, we hug, we make sure to be close to each other when cameras are around, we hold hands…”

“Oh, and before I forget, we also obviously have to attend events as a couple and perform our social media obligations. Expect my face to flood your Insta feed.”

The thought of that fluttered Mick’s stomach, a bit, but he blames his late-night hunger instead, “Wha- What about kissing?”

Believe it or not, but pretty boy Mick Schumacher has never had his first kiss. Having seen Callum flirt with the entire grid, whether in F3, F2, or heck, even F1, the prospect of having a partner, let it be “real” or not, that’s way more experienced than him scares the 21-year-old.

“Are you-“ Callum paused, “Are you okay with cheek kisses?” His voice barely audible. For a confident man, that night made Callum sound so delicate.

“Yeah,” Mick tries not to stutter, “We’ll do what’s best for Haas,” He elaborated. “I guess we’ve established what we do, what about what we don’t do? What’s off-limits?”

“Hm,” Callum drummed his fingers against his denim-covered thighs pensively, staring into the Yas Marina Circuit that surrounded their hotel, “I don’t think we should tell anyone aside from our close family, of course, that- That we’re pretending…”

Mick hummed in agreement, “Okay, I guess it’s better that way.”

They let the subtle rustling of the wind fill their silence, both men trying to imagine what the following year has in store for them. Noticing Mick has wrapped his arms around himself, Callum offered his flannel. A compensation for Bahrain, the brunette quipped.

“Why are you-” Callum abruptly questioned after he handed Mick his flannel.

“What?”

The taller man stared at the concrete beneath his feet, “Why are you single?”

“Why are _you_?” Mick avoided answering, “Didn’t you say a lot of people want to date you?” The Schumacher joked.

Callum rolled his eyes at that response, “C’mon, Mick.” Callum smiled at his ex-title-rival, “I’m confident you have had way too many offers,” He winked, trying to replace the tension with light-hearted teasing.

“Why would you say that?”

“Dunno, hot people tend to?” Callum doesn’t know if he owes it to his exhaustion that his mind wasn’t thinking clearly but his confidence was skyrocketing and he can see from Mick’s growing smile that he doesn’t mind it, not one bit.

The sarcasm and flirty behavior were typical of Callum Ilott, at least when he’s around his close mates but this was a first with Mick. Mick playfully nudged Callum’s head, warning the older man to stop the teasing before he decides to drive mercilessly against him next year.

“I don’t know,” Mick finally answered, “It has never really crossed my mind, to be honest. My whole life has been all about racing, and I plan for it to continue to be, at least for the near future. I love racing too much, it doesn’t even feel like I’m missing out on anything, you know?”

“Yeah,” Callum sighed. He knows, perfectly, “So... I guess you're happy you have a racing driver as a “boyfriend” then?”


	3. Love And Gelato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mick and callum in maranello, this chapter is full of love and gelato :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! here's chapter 3, hopefully all of you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it :) i'm also not basing my descriptions off the actual maranello, but rather, just how i imagined a cute italian setting in a fanfic would be LMAO 
> 
> and of course, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way or form am i implying that this is anything but that. writing this is genuinely something i do for my own entertainment. 
> 
> as usual, please feel free to comment any of your thoughts and opinions or even, constructive criticism, down in the comment section! they really make my day and are super helpful for me to develop my writing 🥺
> 
> have a good day! and don't forget to follow my schulott playlsit on spotify:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7rzxmVcakrFiGmh3a8A3Tf?si=N5lE5WjVRTWOia16Svx2TQ

A few weeks have passed since the winter night in Callum’s balcony. Mick went home to Angie and his family in Switzerland while Callum flew to England to return to his own. Despite the distance, both drivers were connected by each other’s belongings. Belongings they have yet to–or most likely, will never–return to their proper owners. Callum was fully aware that he was missing a flannel when he packed his possessions before leaving Abu Dhabi but he neglected that fact, oddly liking the idea of who it’s with instead.

The so-called “inseparable duo” were scheduled to drive in the Ferrari SF71H testing and on the same day as well. With the 2021 season’s opener edging closer and closer, Guenther has alerted them that their plan needs to get under way as soon as possible.

Sensing a vibration beside his bed, Callum groaned when he became aware of his phone’s unending noise.

“Morning, Callum,” The familiar German accent greeted him.

“Hi Guenther,” The Brit responded with a raspy voice.

“I was thinking, since both you and Mick are testing in Fiorano soon, why don’t you two request Ferrari to give you both flights that arrive at similar times? So that you and Mick can arrive in Maranello together. ”

Callum saw no harm in that, “Yeah, sure I’ll get to it.”

“Great. We’ll rent accommodation that the both of you will stay in while in Maranel-.”

“Actually, I’ve rented my own place already,” Callum cut his boss off.

“No- No, no,” Guenther opposed, frustrated, “Callum, this is the perfect opportunity to raise speculation. If- I mean, when people see you two arriving together and staying in the same place, they’ll talk.”

Callum offered silence this time and Guenther didn’t bother waiting for a response, the beeping noise filling Callum’s ear. He definitely enjoyed his and Mick’s last interaction in Abu Dhabi, but who can say that them in the daylight are the same as them at midnight? So far, it hasn’t been that way.

As the plane descended towards the Italian runway, Callum busied himself with thoughts of what to say to the German once they had reunited. It’s not like he was nervous, at all, it’s just that his past month has lacked any proper kind of social interaction that Callum found himself highly strung with the idea of one. Yeah, that’s it.

Queuing for immigration, the 22-year-old felt a sudden, soft tap on his polo-clad shoulders.

“Hey, Cal,” Callum was met with gleaming eyes, hidden under the shade of a Deutsche Vermögensberatung cap, that evaporated his plans of what to say and how to say them in a matter of seconds.

“Hi!” Was what the taller man opted for.

It’s what he always opts for when there’s so much that he wants to say but struggles to find the right words and the emotional capacity to say them. Callum genuinely wants to properly befriend the Schumacher but he didn't know what to say. He never knows what to say to Mick. It made Callum believe that their relationship could never evolve past the professional alliance that they do share. But, when the universe is kind enough to spare him moments like the one they share in Abu Dhabi, even if Callum would never admit it to himself, he holds onto them and promises it’ll never reach oblivion.

“I guess this is the beginning of the end for us,” Mick laughed.

“Hm, we’ll be alright,” Callum said optimistically, concealing the truth that he’s scared shitless, probably more than Mick was.

Both men began to notice the looks they’re receiving. It's not unusual at all given that they’re literally Ferrari drivers in Maranello, the home of the Scuderia. Callum was scrolling through his phone when Mick impulsively decided to turn their circumstance into something that _would_ be unusual. It’s their job, after all. The blonde swiftly slipped his fingers through Callum’s free hand, eliciting a small jerk from the taller man. Realising what Mick was doing, Callum relaxed himself a little and even took it a step further by placing his phone into his pocket, enabling him to rub circles onto Mick’s back which resulted in widening stares. Great, at least they’re succeeding, Callum thought.

Mick turned his head to meet the brunette’s eyes, prompting him to whisper a mumbled, “Sorry,” as he withdrew his hand, to which the blonde answered, “For what?” Callum chuckled at this, in disbelief of what they had done, but feeling satisfied nonetheless knowing their boss would feel like a rockstar once the knowledge of what he and Mick did reached the daunting team principal. They were both giggling messes when they exited the miniature airport building and stepped into their ride.

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Mick said, in the Ferrari that picked them up, after they’ve managed to catch their breaths.

“For what?” Callum mimicked the blonde.

“I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have done that without warning you first,” Mick’s nervousness was endearing.

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” The older man waved it off, “I get it, it’s our job.”

Callum attempted to ignore the ghost of Mick’s hand that was on his own. He still felt it burning on his skin, seemingly committed to leave its shadow of a mark. He told himself that he’s just a touch-starved 22-year-old. That it’s just a job.

His interactions with Mick, Callum came to realise, were like poems. Some, he easily understood while others, he just couldn’t figure out–and made him think that he never would.

It certainly wasn’t the first time that Callum had visited the little Italian town but this time around was different. He was coming as _Mick Schumacher’s boyfriend_. And for the first time, Mick was here as _Callum Ilott’s boyfriend_. Who cares if it's only partially true? It wasn’t fully false either, wasn’t it?

The Ferrari soon came into a halt and both men exited the car. In front of them stood a beautiful, beige structure overlooking the brick street that’s lined with clothing stores and tiny coffee shops as well as restaurants. Halfway down the street, a horn beeped politely and everyone cleared out of the street to make way for an entire family crowded onto a scooter.

Mick and Callum admired the vintage entrance that welcomed them into their home for the next few days, before expressing their gratitude towards the young European lady who guided them to their room. If the lady’s touch lingered for a second longer than necessary on Callum’s hand while she handed him their keys, he pretended not to notice.

“That girl seems into you, dude,” Mick remarked as he carefully unpacked his luggage.

“Hm?” Callum hummed in a questioning tone, earning a chuckle from the blonde.

“Hm,” Mick mocked his teammate’s humming, “I don’t know, touching you like that...” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “Mr. Ilott is a player, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” Callum said grinning, aiming the hoodie that he recently took off at Mick.

“Ouch,” The German acted hurt, clutching his chest. “Should I wear this out to dinner after this?” Mick continued with Callum’s hoodie, which he caught, in his hand.

“Oh yeah, totally. That’s genius shit Schumacher,” Callum praised, “And you know what? My Twitter notifications were blowing up just now. Seemed like someone took a picture of us,” Callum winked.

Mick instantly slipped into the black hoodie, not caring of its stench that was a result of having been subjected to a full day of travelling, “How do I look?”

Callum’s heart pounded against his chest, he was praying he wouldn’t choke on his words, “C’mon, Schumachers make anything look good,” Smooth, Callum, neutral, “It’s in your blood.” He internally patted himself on the back.

Mick sniffed the hoodie, “It smells like you.”

“You mean, amazing?” Callum retorted.

“It stinks.”

“Oh Mick, you motherfucker!” Mick made a run towards their door and they left for dinner with Callum initially chasing the blonde, threatening to tackle him over his comment on Callum’s scent.

It felt easy between them. It was weird, but good weird. Callum didn’t expect this, the natural chemistry that revealed itself over the past few hours was something he would have only dreamt of weeks ago. Both men strolled through the Maranello streets side to side, admiring all sorts of things ranging from the distinct architecture to a string of laundry hanging between two buildings, with a billowy blue shirt similar to Mick’s, flapping right in the middle of it. The scent of Italian caffeine and gelato fled their senses, challenging their temptations, causing Mick to pout when Callum reminded him of their athlete-diets.

“Ciao Mick!” An old Italian man, dressed in a cook’s attire, greeted the German.

“Ciao Fabio!” Mick answered.

Callum offered the man, whom Mick just referred to as “Fabio”, a smile. Despite having visited Marenello countless times, the Brit has never been to this place Mick confidently dubbed as “the best restaurant in the whole of Europe” before.

“Chi è questo?” Fabio looked at Callum.

“Mi chiamo Callum.”

Fabio was pleasantly surprised at Callum’s Italian response, anticipating Mick to answer instead, and ushered the two men to their seats.

“Oh, won’t you look at that, Guenther is very happy with our performance today,” Callum announced, showing the texts he received from Guenther to Mick, “He said some companies have reached out today, asking him about us. He mentioned that several parties have shown their interest in backing Haas already.”

Mick smiled at that, “And your Twitter followers? Are they happy as well?” He continued mindlessly twirling his pasta.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Callum answered, “And when they see you in my hoodie, they’d be ecstatic.”

“Mm, not yours. It’s mine now. I don’t think I’ll be giving it back to you,” The younger man grinned, eyes wrinkled and all.

It made Callum feel so much, too much, actually, joy to see Mick growing rapidly comfortable around the brunette. Callum felt accomplished. All his doubts about the future of his and Mick’s relationship were suddenly replaced with confidence. Maybe they could be more than allies, or colleagues, or whatever it is Callum deemed fitting to label them, maybe they could be friends.

He rolled his eyes at Mick, who now has his hood on, and began eating his dinner. A plate of ravioli that Mick ordered for him.

Dinner was pleasant. Well, it actually was beyond that for Callum. It was the best meal he has had in a long time but he won’t ever voice that out loud, at least not tonight. He couldn’t boost Mick’s ego too much.

The two men shared a cup of stracciatella gelato, “athlete-diet” be damned, and returned to their hotel. It was much warmer inside but Mick clearly didn’t think so with Callum’s hoodie still around his body. Callum let him keep it on because they’re friends now, he thought.

Mick was pondering at the scene out of their room’s window, immersed by the life and the noise of the Maranello-evening. Callum wanted to say something, engage in a conversation, finding himself wanting to talk to the blonde more than usual after their day. Instead, all he managed was a subtle smile and stolen glances during times that he’s certain Mick wouldn’t notice.

Scrambling through his pile of clothing, Callum searched for the pack of cigarettes in his suitcase. The 22-year-old rarely smokes. Only doing so when it feels appropriate. He uses it as a celebratory reward, like when he’s on podiums, but also, as a compensation. When they're in Bahrain last year and he achieved the F2 vice champion title, but failed to get the champion title (ironically losing to his now-”boyfriend”), Callum found comfort in the puffs of smoke and the soothing, relaxed state which he enters as the nicotine seep into his bloodstream. Tonight, he’s celebrating.

“Do you mind?” Callum looked at Mick, cigarette in between his fingers.

Mick shook his head.

“I don’t do this a lot,” The brunette explained without being prompted to, “Just- Just occasionally.”

“What’s today’s occassion?” Mick asked, haven’t removed his gaze from the view outside.

“Us,” Callum exhales.

Whatever the older man meant, the day exhausted Mick, as much as he enjoyed it, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. The German snatched the cigarette out of Callum’s fingers, whilst he tapped it against their window sill, instead. Mick’s occasion was that he thinks he might, he _might_ , just have found someone that he trusts. But, he couldn’t say that, maybe not yet.

“My occasion is that- I’m good at my job,” Mick spoke. More to himself than to Callum, really, “And I like my job. More than I thought I would.”

Callum took the cigarette directly out of Mick’s mouth and placed it in his own because he could. Because it felt as casual as drinking a glass of water or typing on a phone at that moment. Because it felt right to him.

“Me too, Schumacher. Me too.”


	4. Shut Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mick and callum race in their very first f1 grand prix. beautiful people, beautiful issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow my schulott playlist on spotify!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7rzxmVcakrFiGmh3a8A3Tf?si=XsG1CQqPTP-pxXAYVOkgGQ

Everything came down to this moment. Engineers littered the starting grid and Callum was fed with data upon data that entered one of his ears and immediately left the other. He qualified P17 while Mick qualified P18, slightly behind him, with a gap of a little over 2 hundredths of a second.

The grid soon cleared up, leaving the drivers with just each other and their motor beasts. Before Callum knew it, “It’s lights out, and away we go!” He released his clutch paddle, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins heightening all of his senses, cleanly overtaking the Williams ahead of him in the first turn.

He spotted Mick in his mirrors, seeing that the German has gained a position as well, and ensured to defend because as much as Mick is his “boyfriend”, Callum has his own ambitions to fulfill. Fingers pressed white onto his wheel, the F2 vice-champion drove his heart out throughout the 57 laps of the Bahrain Grand Prix. Callum steered and braked in every corner and turn as if his life depended on it. It doesn’t, but his dreams certainly do.

“Callum, P15 mate, P15. Superb job today,” The Brit heard on his radio.

Callum managed to finish ahead of Mick, who placed P16. A DNF from an Alfa Romeo had brought out the safety car which provided both drivers with opportunities to gain positions after losing them post-pit stop.

Neither finishes were in the points but passing the chequered flag at their first F1 race, as smoothly as they have done, was enough to put a lasting smile on both of the drivers’ faces for the remainder of the night. The Brit hauled himself out of the Haas, noticing Mick standing in front of his garage, and jogged towards his teammate.

“You’re welcome, I went easy on you,” Mick quipped.

“It’s your obligation as my boyfriend, is it not?”

“Oh my God,” Mick punched Callum’s shoulder playfully, “Shut up.”

A herd of camera crew and journalists soon swarmed the duo, desperate to get insights on two of the 2021 rookies’ first Grand Prix of the season. But of course, Callum knew who they were truly there for. A certain blue-eyed German who was staring at Callum with puppy eyes, an attempt at asking the brunette to carry his belongings, as he tied the black race suit around his waist.

“The Haas rookie lineup!” Mics were briskly shoved into their faces, “Mick Schumacher and Callum Ilott!”

“Hey there,” Callum said while Mick opted to politely nod instead.

“We have a Schumacher back on the grid! How are you coping with the pressure? Did it affect your racing today at all?”

Of course, the questions were about Mick’s surname. They had to be. Why had Mick even considered anything else aside from it?

“I, actually, don’t feel that much pressure,” The driver often nicknamed “Schumi Jr” honestly replied, “I gave it my all and just drove how I usually drive.”

The disappointment towards his answer was visible in the journalists’ faces, but Mick knew it didn’t matter. It never has and he doesn’t think it ever will. Whatever his answer was, it was always bound to be twisted into some juicy headline that they can capitalize off.

Callum has it easier, by lightyears, in this aspect and he knew it. He answered every interviewer with the usual well-mannered behavior and occasional humor that he always seems to carry and was happy to find that none of the questions were particularly provocative.

“Callum! Mick!” One journalist suddenly appeared soon after they thought their media duties were over, “A few fans saw you two in Maranello a couple of months ago.”

“Yeah, testing was great,” Callum said innocently.

The interviewer forced out a laugh, seemingly unhappy with Callum’s reaction, and showed no signs of stopping, “You two seemed- Seemed pretty affectionate. Do tell us more about how your relationship with each other has evolved since becoming teammates.”

“It has been good,” Mick commented, turning to the older man, “We’ve gotten to learn about each other way more deeply in team meetings above all of our FDA work, obviously. It has been super beneficial for our work.”

“I’m sorry to ask but- But does that involve you two getting together as a couple as well?” The interviewer chose to practically neglect Mick’s entire response, “Fans speculated that you two were holding hands in Maranello last January, are those rumors true?”

Guenther has been standing seven feet away from them, eavesdropping on their interview. Fully aware that neither Mick nor Callum have been trained on how to respond to questions like those, the team had not been anticipating them to come so early into the season, let alone, on the year’s first race, he approached the group of 3 and rescued his drivers out of the difficult situation.

Before either of the men could speak, Guenther had beaten them to it, “Don’t worry, we’ll keep them guessing. Speculation is always more compelling than confirmation.” 

The Haas team principal urged both of his drivers to change out of their race suits and left to wait for them in the paddock. Before the Grand Prix, Mick and Callum left Maranello with more of a relationship than when they arrived, they have occasionally sent each other memes and texts but nothing significant was exchanged.

“It’s starting to feel so real,” Mick uttered, “Our plan, I mean.”

“I know, did you see how many journalists there were?”

“Many,” The blonde laughed, releasing his straw from his mouth.

“Guys, well done today, the both of you,“ Guenther interjected, “Tomorrow, we’ll have a debrief on our strategy and how we’ll move forward in Italy.”

“Okay,” Mick and Callum said in unison, leaving the duo alone, yet again, as they watched their boss’ tall, lanky figure disappear into the distance.

“What do you think is next?” Callum raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Mick couldn’t bring himself to look at the taller man, feeling his face burn at the thought of what could be next.

“Cal-“ Mick’s voice dropped.

The pet name spawned butterflies in Callum’s stomach, “Yeah?”

“I- I’m just going to be open with you because you’d probably appreciate it.”

Callum thought hard of when their conversation took such a turn. Mick was turning more vulnerable. Their exchanges, thus far, have always been meaningless, light and unimportant, but at that moment, Callum sensed the shift. The conversation that they’re having felt like all but those things.

“I haven’t,” Mick swallowed, “I haven’t done much before. I haven’t kissed anyone, actually.”

“Oh,” Callum started laughing hysterically.

“You fucker,” Mick growled at the brunette, “Stop laughing!”

“No no, I thought you were about to tell me someone died or something!” Callum wiped the tears from his eyes.

Mick sighed in frustration, “This is serious!” He pinched Callum’s arm.

“Ouch! Jesus, alright, go on.”

“I haven’t done much before, so like, I don’t know what I’d do if I don’t know? If Guenther asked us to- To-“

“Kiss?” Callum interrupted.

“Yeah,” The blue-eyed man sighed.

“Oh,” The brunette paused, “Well, I don’t know what you’re freaking out about.”

Mick’s expression fell. Feeling confused as to why Callum thought that’d make him feel better.

“You,” Callum placed a finger on Mick’s arm, “Should be overjoyed that your first kiss, Mr. Schumacher,” He removed his finger and placed it on himself, “Will be with me.”

“Oh, wow,” Despite his sarcastic tone, Mick’s face has softened. Callum’s wit seems to always have that effect on people, “You’re so cocky!”

“I’m not!” The brunette shrugged, “You should feel lucky. You _are_ lucky!”

“You little shit, I actually don’t know how to.”

The Bahrain paddock has always been one of Callum’s favorites. It has always been very well-lit and every structure in the area consistently looked spotless, painted neutral colors to serve as a contrast to the vibrant tropical-looking trees that were planted throughout the walkway. Callum took in the sight of the blonde in front of him, face illuminated by the lights’ golden hue, he has always known Mick was a good-looking bloke but tonight, he realized that he was more than that. Mick Schumacher was beyond pretty or cute. He’s angelic.

The Brit would probably puke at his own thoughts given that this was anyone other than his friend that he’s talking about. But hey, it’s just a fact, he thought to himself. It doesn’t even mean anything. Callum doesn’t even like guys.

“You know me, if we weren’t in a pandemic, I’d take you to a club, introduce you to a lady to kiss. Get in some free practice before the main race you know? The main event.”

“The main event?”

“Me!” Callum stated as if it was the most obvious thing ever, earning another pinch from Mick, albeit less aggressively this time.

Both men have now entered their hotel which’s located in the track’s immediate vicinity and ridden the elevator up to their rooms’ floor.

“Shit!” Callum swore, patting down the front and back pockets of his sweats, “I left my wallet in the garage!”

“Oh my God, you’re so stupid, Ilott!” Mick said from his side of the hallway, ready to scan his room-key while his teammate was busy panicking over his own card, or more precisely, his lack thereof.

“Can’t you get a spare key from reception?”

“Company me?”

The German rolled his eyes but found himself following Callum’s lead anyways. If he’s honest with himself, he found the Brit’s presence as comforting and his off-track stupidity as even more endearing.

Mick still remembers last November’s memories. Having heard a couple of knocks on his door, he pulled his unbuttoned shirt across his chest and unlocked the door which revealed his ex-teammate who was wearing an apologetic smile across his face.

“Hey,” Callum greeted him shyly which was very uncharacteristic of the vice-champion. However, given that they rarely spoke last year, being title rivals and all, it made sense to Mick.

“Hi!”

“I kinda forgot that we have a prize-giving ceremony and don’t have anything to wear and um… René told me that you might have a spare shirt? Obviously, it’s fine if you don’t- I just, I kinda forgot and-”

“Of course," Mick cut off Callum’s rambling, "Wait a second.” 

“Thanks, Mick,” The older man paused, “Thanks.”

It’s nothing but a memory now but Mick often replays the exchange. It’s still as vivid to him now as it was 3 months ago.

“Sorry, Sir. We can only provide guests with 1 extra key aside from the 2 initial keys we give out.”

“You’ve asked for another extra key before?!” Mick whispered to Callum. He was finally reminded of how chaotic the brunette can be.

“Yeah, I lost one of mine on the first day and gave my other one to my physio. So, yeah,” Callum justified defensively.

“However, we may give you another key, Sir, but we’d have to charge you for it,” The lady at the reception elaborated.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’ve got no cash and my card is-”

“In your wallet? Yeah, I guessed,” Mick retorted.

“Jesus, someone’s sassy tonight,” Callum elbowed Mick’s side.

“Fuck! Stop it!”

They were now drawing attention from the surrounding guests that were queuing behind them, and this time, it’s definitely not the good kind nor is it the kind that nurtures their strategy. Both men sounded like irritating middle-schoolers who’d more likely be perceived as an F1 driver’s children under puberty rather than the F1 drivers themselves.

“Look, I’d help you but my wallet is in the safe at my room, and I’m not bothered to go back here and enter my card details and all. Just stay in my room for tonight, there’s enough space,” Mick suggested, earning a flirty expression from his teammate. Shit, Mick thought. He should’ve realized Callum would’ve never let Mick hear the end of this, teasing him up until his death bed.

“Oh- Wow- I’m flattered, Schumacher. Really, I mean, we haven’t even kissed yet and you want to sleep with me already?” Callum whispered to Mick, in his distinctly deep voice, whose face turned as red as a Ferrari livery.

“Wow Cal, you really want to be homeless tonight, don’t you?” Mick stalked off, not looking to see if Callum was following him or not.

“I’m sorry,” Callum softly apologized once they’re both in Mick’s room.

There was only one bed, albeit king-sized and therefore, in actuality, big enough to accommodate both of the driver’s bodies comfortably, so Callum was floor-bound.

“Are you mad at me?” Callum poked Mick’s back, the blonde’s eyes were closed shut but Callum knew it was just an act, “Are youuuuu?”

“No.”

“Oh, he talks!”

And there Callum goes, the racing driver has done it. He has pushed all of Mick’s buttons. The German immediately felt a wave of regret washing over him, for his decision to allow Callum to enter his room, and hastily pulled the bed covers over his face, unwilling to look at the Brit.

Shit, shit, shit. Callum has never intended to hurt Mick’s feelings, he thought that it was somewhat funny, on the contrary.

“Mick?” Callum prayed for a response, “Mick? I’m genuinely sorry. Thank you for letting me in your room, by the way,” The 22-year-old was practically speaking to himself at this point, “The floor is quite comfy-”

“Oh my God, Callum, shut up!” The blonde unveiled himself as he chewed on his lower lip, tears racing down his cheeks.

“Fuck, Mick- Shit, I’m sorry, I was just bored- Fuck.”

“No, no, no,” Mick choked out in between stifles, “It’s- It’s actually not you, I’m just-”

Callum promptly rushed to Mick’s side and rubbed soothing circles onto his back, similarly to when they were in Maranello, surrounded by photographing strangers, but, this time, no one was around.

“It’s just- I don’t fucking know Callum! The press, and my dad, God, I hope he’s okay and- I just raced in F1, fucking F1 and all I'm thinking of is him," the blonde admitted, "Is he proud of me? Cal- I won’t ever get to know! Fuck!” Mick erupted before his teammate could even answer. “And you! You’re so experienced and you- You’ve probably kissed or done whatever with so many people,” Moans were now escaping Mick’s lips through the suppressed sound of hiccups, “And you know, Callum, I don’t care but I just- I want my first one to be real as well. I want all my first times to be real. And it’s not your fault, I know and- And I hope you know that too- I just- I’m sorry."

"Hey," Callum brought both of his hands to the sides of Mick's face, "No need to apologize, okay? I'm sorry I didn't notice you feel this way-"

"No, don’t say sorry, please," Mick found himself leaning into the older man's touch, "Don’t.”

Callum wanted to tell Mick that of course, Michael is proud of him. That even Callum, his supposed rival, who logically should be envious of Mick's achievements, feels so much adoration towards the blonde. He also wanted to tell the younger man that to him, that hidden in the subconscious of his mind, what they’d be doing is real. Maybe the most real thing Callum has ever done, actually. But how can he tell Mick that when he hasn’t even admitted it to himself?

It’s times like these that remind Callum of how young and naive they are. That although both of them have spent most of their life traveling across the globe, always so far away from their family and always so, so lonely, they’re not any stronger or more powerful than anyone else. That Mick Schumacher feels and hurts as much as anyone else feels and hurts. That just because Mick has been carrying it well, it doesn’t mean it hasn’t been heavy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! hope you enjoyed this chapter, it was kind of painful for me to write but i felt that a bit of angst was necessary LMAO ;) 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are always appreciated! :D
> 
> enjoy the rest of your day!


	5. Someone To Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they wake up together! they do :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! i've decided to lock this fic for the time being due to the reddit dudebros situation (sigh), however, i hope you enjoy this chapter and hopefully everyone has a good day!
> 
> light suggestion: listen to my schulott playlist while reading this :))
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7rzxmVcakrFiGmh3a8A3Tf?si=P0a62ayDRT6N9Rawz6hGfw

Mick woke up to the familiar sound of the Formula 1 theme. His alarm was changed, from its default ringing into the iconic anthem, when Sean jokingly dared him to last year. Hauling himself out of the mattress, his effort was to no purpose when he felt an alien weight on top of his legs. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he turned his head and was met with the sight of hazel hair.

Mick’s heart leaped when he registered the view in front of him. Last night’s events slowly crept into his mind, coming to the realisation that Callum never left his bed after the blonde spent the entirety of the previous night sobbing into the taller man’s shoulders. Mick took a mental note of making sure he’d replace the Ferrari shirt he drenched, which he has noticed seemed to be glued onto Callum since his first day as an FDA driver, as an apology.

Mick tugged absently on the covers blanketing his body while he held his gaze on his teammate. A gentle glow from the sun’s rays washed over Callum’s face, turning Callum’s blue-greyish eyes a shade brighter than they usually are. The small scene was enough to bloom a foreign warmth in the Mick’s chest.

Attempting to not wake Callum up, Mick gently wiggled his leg out from under Callum’s own, but the sound of a light groan reaching his ears quickly told him that his attempt had failed.

Stretching his arms against the headboard, Callum faintly yawned.

“Good morning,” The Brit said.

Callum’s expression was unphased by the sight in front of him, as if waking up to ocean eyes and golden locks was something out of a routine.

Pearls of sweat collected in the nape of Mick’s neck. He could feel Callum’s breath on his face starting riots in his heart. Shame churned in Mick’s stomach, _you’re just trying to process how it feels like to wake up next to someone_ , Mick convinced himself, _it’s normal, it’s your first time._ To his own surprise, Mick didn’t hate that it wasn’t a real ‘first time’. Or maybe, he just didn’t hate the fact that it’s Callum.

“Morning,” Mick finally replied.

“Feeling better?” Callum asked, a small smile forming.

Mick nodded.

“Good. I’m happy to know that Schumacher,” The affection in Callum’s voice, different than usual, had no trace of sarcasm.

“Thanks,” Mick said, eyes still attached to Callum’s, seeing the brunette mouthing you’re welcome before promptly leaving the bed for the en suite.

Mick ignored the sinking of his heart as Callum’s weight disappeared from the mattress, and reached to unplug his charger. As he adjusted the camera to unlock his phone, Mick noticed the notification that popped up on his screen.

 _Mom_  
Happy for you ❤️  
So proud of your race

 _Thanks mom, miss you lots_ , he dragged his thumb across his keyboard, hitting send. Within a breath, his mom’s caller ID appeared and Mick instinctively clicked the green button.

“Hi mom!” Mick greeted, trying to conceal the strain in his voice that’s a result of hours of crying.

“Hey, sweetie,” Corinna replied with a certain fondness, “Morning, have you gotten enough rest from last night’s race?”

“Yeah,” Mick lied. “Got some good sleep, I just woke up.”

“Hey,” Callum returned, failing to notice that Mick was on a call.

“Is that Callum?” Corinna questioned, not so much with curiosity, but instead, with a tone of certainty.

Callum mouthed, “Is that your mom?” To which Mick nodded to.

“Hey, Corinna!” Callum said, his tone laced with an unusual sweetness that Mick secretly wishes to hear more of.

Corinna and Callum have obviously shared a few encounters on the paddock before, considering Mick and Callum have raced in several of the same series for years, and even, as teammates in the 2017 season. As immature as Callum can be, the Brit has never failed at using his natural charm and charisma to leave a memorable impression of himself to those who have had the pleasure of meeting him, and Corinna Schumacher was no exception.

“Hi, Callum! How have you been?”

“I’ve been great, thank you Mrs. Schumacher. How are you yourself? I’m sure you’re looking more youthful than ever,” Callum jokingly flirted.

Mick placed his hands on his face, hiding the scarlet second-hand embarrassment growing on his cheeks. Before Callum could go further with his albeit endearing but embarrassing inputs, Mick switched the call setting out of speaker mode and plugged his airpods into his ears.

“Okay mom, I’m no longer on speaker. I have officially saved you from Callum,” Mick said as he stood up and began searching his suitcase for the day’s outfit.

“So, you and Callum Ilott, huh?” Corinna teased in a knowing voice.

“What about him mom?” Mick forced out a tiny laugh.

“I should be the one asking you that,” Corinna laughed with her son, “What about him?

“You saw the pictures, didn’t you?” Mick sighed.

“I just wished you would’ve told me! As your mom, I just think that I deserved to know before the whole world did!” Corinna joked, oblivious of the reality behind the images she has seen.

“Mom we’re-”

“Gosh, I knew it! I’m so happy for you Mick, I’ve always known you two had something for each other. You finally noticed the way he looks at you, did you?” Mick could hear the grin forming on his mom’s face, “I’m so proud of you, you certainly have good taste.”

Mick hasn’t told his mom about his and Callum’s pretend relationship. It filled Mick with joy to hear his mom sound this happy. It brought him back to his childhood where his mom’s happiness came naturally, unsolicited and genuine. Mick hasn’t experienced it in a long time. It was enough to make him forget his mom’s sentimental comments. Enough to make him want to hear more and certainly, enough to make him withhold the truth of the situation.

“Thanks mom,” Mick said, neglecting the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts that reigned his mind after hearing what his mom had to say about how Callum has looked at him, or whatever.

“I’m so proud of you,” Corinna repeated, as if she’s scared that Mick failed to hear her the first time, “So proud,” Her voice was starting to sound more fragile, lower and more earnest, “I love you Mick.”

“I love you more.”

“I know, I know,” Silence filled the line, “Well, I have to go now but have fun with Callum, okay?”

“Okay.”

A beep signaled the end to their call.

“You’re no fun,” Callum groaned, aiming a pillow at Mick who was entering the bathroom with the clothes he newly picked out, “Stopping me from talking to Corinna like that.”

“Hey!” The pillow bounced off Mick onto the carpet, “You were embarrassing,” Mick stated.

“What did you talk about anyways?” Callum absently asked as he scrolled through his phone, stomach flat on the mattress.

“Nosy,” Mick said, a smirk tugging his mouth.

Callum drew his eyebrows together, shooting his teammate a playful glare.

“Well, um,” Mick hesitated, “Promise me you won’t get mad?”

Callum flipped himself onto his back and stretched an arm towards Mick.

“What?”

“C’mon! Let’s seal it with a pinky promise,” Callum pouted.

“Oh my God,” Mick said in feigned annoyance, “If you weren’t so kind to me last night, I would’ve kicked you out as soon as you opened your eyes,” Mick’s face ached at his attempt to hide the growing smile that he felt was creeping onto his face.

“Fine. See, you’re proving my point! You’re no fun. But since you think of me as kind, and I am,” The brunette assured, “I’m not going to push this pinky promise contract.”

“Okay well, my mom saw the pictures of us in the airport holding hands and I kind of didn’t tell her that it’s fake and that we’re in a pretend relationship,” Mick released in a single breath.

“Woah woah, slow down. What?”

“Ugh,” Mick groaned at his own decision, “But please, don’t hate me.”

“Never,” Callum said a little too quickly than he would’ve wished for.

“My mom thinks that we,” Mick gestured his hands back and forth between them, “Are for real.”

“Oh,” Callum deadpanned, “Soo, you didn’t tell her… Why?”

“I don’t know,” Mick shrugged, reverting his gaze onto the ground, “She sounded so happy when she’s talking about us and I’d hate to ruin that for her. Gosh, I’m so selfish, aren’t I?”

“No, that’s fine,” Calllum told the younger man, voice laced with certainty, “I promise.”

Callum knows of the things that Mick and his family have been through in the past few years, heck, the entire world knows. Although Mick’s explanation alerted him with confusion, if Callum could contribute to even the slightest fragment of Corinna’s happiness, why wouldn’t he?

The pair cleaned themselves up and were now ready to head to the meeting they’ve promised Guenther.

“Shit!” Mick cursed out, his protein shake spilling across his clothes after he elbowed his glass while navigating through the clutter on top of the hotel room’s counter, “No no no!”

“Jesus princess, such a drama queen,” Callum took notice of the scene, “Just change.”

“I don’t have any more clean clothes dumb fuck,” Mick snarled as he busied himself patting tissues on his shirt, an effort that came to no avail.

“Just use my hoodie, didn’t you wash it in the hotel while we’re in Maranello? Haven’t seen you wear it since and you refuse to return it so I certainly haven’t worn it,” Callum suggested casually, “So, pretty sure it’s clean,” The Brit concluded with a satisfied smirk.

“It scares me how often and how drastically your intelligence fluctuates.”

“Okay Merriam Webster, stop using big words? I speak English and you’re talking as if you’ve memorized the dictionary. No can do,” Callum answered, ignoring the backhanded compliment.

“I hate you,” The blonde said as he slipped into Callum’s hoodie for the second time, and gosh, Mick prayed, under the wool that hid a smile that stretched from ear to ear, that it wasn’t going to be his last time.

Walking to Guenther’s room, where their meeting would be held this time around for the sake of convenience, Callum decided to bring up last night’s conversation.

“Hey, Mick?”

“Yeah?”

“About you wanting your first times to be real, that’s so fair and valid. Whatever it is that Guenther is going to tell us to do, you can say no, okay?”

“Maybe I don’t mind if it’s with you,” Mick absently uttered under his breath, his mouth working faster than his mind was.

“Sorry, what? I couldn’t hear you,” Callum questioned, convinced that his hearing is flawed.

“Nothing. And yeah, okay. Thank you,” The German said, confirming to Callum that he must’ve heard wrong.

Mick knocked on Guenther’s door, summoning the team principal in front of them. Directing the Haas drivers to the couch, Guenther plopped himself onto the bed.

“Both of you have been doing well, cooperating and contributing to our strategy, but we need to do better,” Their boss cut straight to the chase.

“And we do that by doing?” Callum spoke for the both of them.

“I’m expecting to see something on your social media by next week. Nothing explicit, of course. Something subtle would do, like hand-holding, comments tagging each other or on each other’s posts, I don’t know what you young kids do,” Guenther ordered, legs crossed, not once removing his stare from either of the drivers.

“We need to drop more hints, implicit confirmation that’ll show to the public that you are each other’s partners,” Guenther continued, “To be honest guys, we need more PDA.”

“Like?” Mick was the one who spoke up this time, Callum remaining silent and keeping his eyes on his feet.

“A hug or two in the first day. Ideally, a kiss before you leave Italy,” Guenther said in a voice so blatant, “I hate to push you,” He switched to a slightly apologetic tone, “This is hard, I know. But, we can’t wait forever, this financial issue we’re having guys, it’s urgent.”

Callum took a quick look at Mick, trying his hardest to read signs of discomfort on the blonde’s face, expecting silent defiance which Callum would definitely vocalize for him.

“Okay,” Mick said instead, turning to Callum. The brunette raised his brows, confused, “We’ll do it, right Cal?” The German continued while never once taking his eyes off the Brit. Callum hummed in agreement.

“Oh my God, what were you thinking?” Callum asked Mick after they had left Guenther’s excessively caffeine-scented room, concerned for Mick more than for himself, really, “You just cried over the idea of us kissing last night, Schumacher. We could’ve negotiated,” Callum groaned into his hands.

“Well, Ilott, I realised keeping both of our jobs and the team’s existence are more important than being a romantic,” Mick said with a hint of aggression, wishing Callum would’ve appreciated his sacrifice a tiny bit more than he seemingly was.

Callum removed his hands from his face, giving the German a wistful look, “I just don’t want to fuck up your life.”

Mick pinched his brows together, wanting to tell Callum and keep telling him that that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“More than I already have,” The brunette choked out a laugh, “If that's even possible, is it?”

This is what Callum does, it’s the only thing he knows how to do. He hides his guilt and feelings behind a veil of ironic jokes and sarcasm, a very thin one, that is, but a veil nonetheless. Although he carries himself with a manner that sometimes may be perceived as a superiority complex, Callum Ilott believes he’d never be good enough. Nothing but a burden that taxes everyone in his life, including Mick.

Not knowing what to do, and believing no words in the four or more languages he speaks would convince the Brit in front of him otherwise, Mick threw his arms around Callum, swiftly pulling his self-deprecating teammate into a hug. The air was taken from Callum’s lungs, jumping at the initial contact, but he soon found himself instinctively bringing his lean arms around Mick’s waist, anchoring the blonde against himself.

“Woah, pity hug,” Callum said, ignoring his heart’s rapid racing and instead, used the opportunity to inhale the scent of Mick’s hair, sitting right below his nose, that he has envied ever since their first meeting. _High maintenance hair care barbie bitch_ , he thought then. Now, the only thing he’s thinking of is _more, more, more_.

The hotel’s hall was empty, only the occasional rumbles of the ice machine could be heard from where they stood. Mick let go and placed both of his hands on Callum’s shoulders, “You’re not fucking up anyone’s life.” His eyes locked into Callum’s.

The sight of this boy in front of Callum, wearing _his_ hoodie, telling him what he has always wanted to hear ever since he was a child, ever since he placed his family in a hard position when he was dropped by Red Bull, joining series after series and having not won a single title, stirred a hurricane of emotions inside of him. A flurry of joy, validation and comfort.

A thank you hung on the tip of Callum’s tongue, but who’s Callum Ilott if not someone who expresses his gratitude through annoying remarks?

“Were you a hugging virgin too before just now, or?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! i've been thinking of changing this fic's name into White Ferrari, what do you guys think? should I? 
> 
> oh and btw, kudos and comments are always appreciated!! 🥺♥️


	6. Free Practice Makes Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2021 italian gp, first times are the best times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! callum plays a song on the speaker in this chapter, here's the song he plays:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/track/0nFiXjQUmqZJnskf6nKi70?si=GL28sX5hQ6aHZ9iM_ehERg
> 
> loop it throughout the chapter :))

“And we’re back in Italy! A home race for the two scuderias on the grid, Ferrari and Alpha Tauri will surely be aiming for a lot this weekend, won’t they?”

“Yeah, we certainly have an exciting race ahead of us. This evening’s qualifying is now underway, Ilott is out on his flying lap while his teammate, Mick Schumacher, is still in the garage.”

“Yeah, how exciting is it to have a Schumacher on the grid? Unbelievable, and now, we can see a Mclaren, Ricciardo I think, yup, pulling out of the pit lane. The honey badger won his twenty-ninth podium with Renault on this circuit in 2020, let’s see what he can bring this year.”

“That’s right, and oh! That’s a purple sector for Russell and I believe Hamilton has just set the fastest time so far with a one minute fourteen. You could hear him sweep on the throttle paddle, will we be seeing another front row lockout for the silver arrows?”

“The black arrows, more like it, the switch to the black livery from last year is just amazing, isn’t it? But anyways, car forty seven has come on track, while Ilott has just set the eleventh fastest time.”

“Impressive stuff from the young Brit. I was quite surprised last year when Haas announced a rookie lineup but I think it’s paying off, the duo, the inseparable duo, is looking to be more than competent.”

“I’d have to agree with you on that. Kind of steering the conversation a bit here but, the Haas teammates seem to be getting along really well recently. Really well. It got people thinking, actually, is there more to this duo than a friendship?”

“We’ll have to see as the season progresses, won’t we? Well, two more minutes of Q1 left and car fifty three is heading into the last corner, I think that wrapped up Ilott’s last lap and aw! Barely misses Q2 by milliseconds!”

Going into the Italian Grand Prix, Callum felt a novel discomfort and confusion, in a way, that has been bothering him ever since he shared a hug with Mick in their hotel’s hallway in Bahrain. He has yet to figure out its root but Callum blamed the fatigue and mental exhaustion.

“Fucking hell,” He cursed at himself for the missed milliseconds that costed him Q2.

Three days until they leave Italy. Seventy two hours is all Callum has to bridge the final gap between him and Mick, metaphorically and literally. And that is if Guenther was feeling generous, he has been sending both him and Mick not-so-subtle reminders, pushing both of them to fulfill their agenda time and time again. Satisfy the media. Bring us the money. Kiss.

Mick was also eliminated out of Q1, as expected given the machinery that they have to work with. Callum noticed Mick's car pulling into the pit lane, entering the garage right beside his own, and rested the water bottle that he had in his mouth on the counter below a screen displaying his quali’s statistics. He observed the lid decorated with the red, yellow and black of the German flag getting removed off Mick’s head, revealing the familiar mop of blonde hair. Mick caught Callum staring and offered him a small smile.

Reaching to his backpack stuffed in between his helmet-bag and a case of water bottles, Callum took his phone out and was met with notifications flooding his lock screen.

_Marcus_

CALLUM  
HOW DID I JUST SEE PCS  
PICS*  
OF U N SCHUMACHER WTF  
Since when?  
How far have you guys gone?  
What hypnosis did you cast upon him sir?

 _Oh my God_ , Callum whispered to himself. He should’ve known Marcus would’ve interrogated him sooner than later. Callum was about to obstruct all of Marcus’ questions, the instinct to punch his keyboard for an explanation of the truth behind his and Mick’s situation washed over him, but he ultimately decided against it.

_Callum_

Ha ha  
How far? Really? Ur a perv ill get u kicked off the FDA

“Hey,” Mick caught up to the Brit.

Closing the messaging app, Callum brought his eyes to Mick.

“Hi, you beat me,” Callum squeezed Mick’s shoulders.

“Free practice makes perfect,” The blonde giggled. And that sound, Callum realised, he could listen to all day.

“No,” Callum shook his head, “I just felt like doing charity today. You’re welcome, by the way,” He winked.

At this point, Mick has given up on any attempts of going against Callum’s sarcastic remarks. In fact, Mick has gotten so used to it that he feels as if his day is incomplete without hearing them.

“Seriously though,” Mick’s voice grew more serious, “Will we ever make it to Q2? This shit is so tiring and it’s only our second quali.”

“Hmm,” Callum hummed, sharing Mick’s opinion, “Maybe we will once we kiss and get sponsors,” He remarked absentmindedly.

A light pause sat between them.

“When should we do it?” Mick uttered, his gaze away from Callum, fingers picking at a loose string on his race suit.

Callum’s cheeks flushed a bright red and his heart rate began to accelerate.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Callum finally answered, “After the race,” The Brit stated with feigned certainty, “I wouldn’t want it, or the response, to influence any of our driving in the race.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere in the paddock, maybe? After all the media duties, of course, we want to seem subtle, but it’s basically a guarantee that someone would still be around to catch us.”

“God, I need a drink,” Mick sighed, turning his head to catch the sight of the older man who nudged his shoulder and laughed.

“You’re underaged!” Callum mockingly gaped, teasing the blonde in front of him.

“You’re dating someone who’s underaged!” Mick fought back, chin tilted in arrogance.

“Oh no no no no no! That’s fucked up. Mick, you’re messed up,” Callum rebutted. “Anyways, not that Guenther would appreciate it but, I agree. I need a drink as well,” Callum said, “You, me and a bottle of wine that’s waiting patiently in my mini fridge tonight? What do you say?”

“Wine in your mini fridge?” Mick raised his eyebrows in doubt.

“We’re in Italy, baby.”

Mick couldn’t get Bahrain out of his head. The hug they shared seemed to have left a permanent imprint in his memory. He’s not a “hugging virgin” like what Callum has said but, Mick has never felt the way he did when Callum hugged him back.

They were walking to Callum’s room, visiting each other’s rooms is now a frequent occurrence for one thing or another, Callum telling him of the mundane events he has experienced throughout his day.

“Marcus found us out, he finally saw the Maranello pics,” Callum told his teammate.

“What did he say?” Mick softly chuckled.

“He asked me _how far have you guys gone?_ ” Callum gagged.

The blonde bursted into laughter, clutching his stomach as they walked on. “Perv!” Mick said.

“Exactly what I said!” Callum replied, “He just doesn’t believe it, he thinks I hypnotised you like yeah, right. More like I hypnotised you with my hotness,” The brunette ran his fingers through his hair and offered his teammate a smirk.

“True,” Mick choked out in between laughs.

“Is that so?”

“No! You believe that?” Mick’s laughter was amplified.

“Well, I’m a firm believer in facts. And the fact is Callum Benjamin Ilott is hot,” Callum wore a stern expression on his face.

“Your middle name is Benjamin? Callum, you’re like, so awfully English!”

Their banter didn’t stop, it often falls upon them naturally as of late. With every passing day, Mick grew more and more fond of his teammate. Callum’s presence feels like a fog that blinds him to all of Mick’s stinging realities. When Mick is with the Brit, all the thoughts of his dad, the media and everything in between seem to evaporate. They finally arrived at Callum’s door. The last time they were in Italy, a room was theirs. A collective possession. Now that this was Callum’s room and Mick has his own, it weirdly doesn’t sound as right.

Opening the mini fridge, Callum took a miniature wine bottle out of one of the racks and delicately poured the burgundy liquid into two glasses.

“Thanks,” Mick said, sitting on a chair behind a marble desk, watching Callum settle on the ottoman.

Callum placed his glass on a circular table in between them and extracted a portable speaker out of his suitcase.

“Any requests?” Callum said holding a red beats pill gifted by Marcus.

“Surprise me,” Mick sipped a bit of his wine.

The sound of a piano gently echoed on the room’s walls, Callum’s eyes found Mick’s and the calm air was abruptly replaced with slight tension.

“Maybe we should practice,” Mick suggested out of the blue.

This jerked Callum’s head away from his glass, “We had a few yesterday.”

Mick traced the rim of the glass with his fingers pensively and forced out a sarcastic laugh.

“Not free practice for a race, idiot. I’ve never kissed anyone before, maybe it’s too much to ask but, maybe you can help me practice before I embarrass myself in the pictures they’ll take of us,” Mick let out, his voice sounding so fragile and afraid.

Callum swore he felt his heart skip a beat, he has obviously been anticipating for them to share a kiss, but not so soon. Not this soon. The glass almost slipped through his shaky grip, and Callum suddenly lost all of his ability to speak for a solid while.

“Yeah, okay,” Callum choked out.

The smashing of the piano keys thrumming through the speakers grew increasingly louder and louder, filling the silence between him and Mick.

“We’d probably be standing up later so you may want to- Um, stand up,” Callum advised, downing the rest of his drink in a single gulp.

Mick’s lips were stained, a shade redder than usual, lifting himself up off the chair and leaning against the desk. Callum walked towards the blonde, tilting his head slightly to meet the shorter man’s eyes.

“Hi,” The brunette greeted, a tender smile growing on his face.

“Hey.”

They could feel each other’s breaths fanning their faces, Mick wanted to feel scared, he had read that some first kisses were horrible, an absence of fireworks and all the sentimental bullshit authors describe in romance novels through false metaphors, but he didn’t. His heart felt like it was going to escape his chest but it didn’t make him want to flee. Not one bit.

“We can start here,” Callum said as he gravitated towards Mick’s cheek. Placing soft lips on even softer skin.

Mick’s heart ached faintly at the fact that none of it was real but the warmth of Callum’s mouth on his blushing face left a fuzzy feeling too novel and satisfying for him to stop wanting more.

Callum pulled away, Mick’s eyes were like the ocean and all he wanted to do was drown. Mick was moving closer and closer to him but close just didn’t feel close enough.

“Can I?” Callum's hands hesitantly hovered above Mick’s waist, seeking permission.

“Yeah,” Mick nodded, placing his hands on Callum’s, wrapping them around his waist.

Now that Callum’s arms were draped protectively circling Mick’s frame, Callum became extremely aware of how close they were. Mick’s gaze lingered on Callum for a few heartbeats.

All their movements seem to happen nearly all at once, the inclining of Callum’s jaw, the slide of Mick’s hands around Callum’s neck, the connection of their lips.

Callum’s lips moving against Mick’s own was torturously slow, all Mick could focus on was the hot and wet contact weakening his knees, how addictively Callum invaded his senses. Heat rose from Mick’s stomach to his chest, Callum’s smell hypnotic beyond reason.

Mick caressed Callum’s hair, wanting to find, feel, and touch anything that’ll confirm that what he’s experiencing wasn’t just a product of his imagination. Mick parted his lips and Callum was close to deepening their kiss before a wave of rationality fled his mind like a broken dam.

“Damn,” Callum said, puffs of hot breath against Mick’s face.

Mick felt feral panic stirring in the area below his ribcage, “Was I that bad?” He removed his hands from around Callum’s neck and brought his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Are you sure you haven’t done that before?” Callum questioned, hands still resting on Mick’s waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are always appreciated! 
> 
> btw so sorry for the fact tht this update took longer than usual, i haven't been feeling amazing lately but anyways, ahh so happy to hv received an invite from ferrari for their virutal event/team reveal on the 26th of feb on twt, can't wait!!


End file.
